To capture his smile
by Delightful-Damsel
Summary: A chance encounter of meeting together, studying photographer Arthur and author Alfred were thrown into one another's lives. Whether it was for good or bad, Arthur did not know, but he would surely find out soon.There was something charming in him that brought out the spark inside his chest. How could such a peculiar man get to him? [ Side pairing mentioned; Rating may change. ]


Being accepted to the university your eyes were set on since freshmen year in high school would seem like a dream come true for most people, but this dream had turned to a full blown nightmare for a certain student. His name was Arthur Kirkland, and his life had gone from a bundle of hopeful opportunities to grasp to disappointed shards of glass cutting his hands as they slipped through his fingers.

It was rather ridiculous how he had thought his life could be so perfect and play out like one of those cheesy movies in theaters, but that attitude was long gone now. Those shimmering emerald orbs of wonder and excitement had died down to dull pools of discouragement. An outlook that had been thirsty for what the world had to offer the young adult had died down to a mere glance of anguish at his current circumstances.

He had no money in his pockets to spare and barely enough to stuff into his crabby landlady's wallet. The poverty was nothing new to the man, but it only aided in the downfall of that faith and hope in the future and whatever it had held for him. The room he paid to have his name on was shabby anyways and had a cruddy heater that seemed to always stop working right around the middle of the winter season.

There was some beat up furniture of an old sofa and maroon chair in the living room with a television that went out whenever it rained; the same with the internet access. His kitchen was fair, just cramped with no counter space, or at least it seems so. Though, that was no issue due to the fact Arthur was no chef and usually heated things in the microwave or ate simple things like cereal. He did not have the cash for anything fancy either way.

The shower was the best part in all honesty, the pressure was good and he could stand there and let his thoughts freely unwind out of his head. The feel of the warm water washing over his body gave him that sensation and peace of mind to think freely about all that had happened in the previous day or injustices he suffered daily.

It was not peculiar if he stayed until the cold water came and splashed the slap of reality into the poor Brit. To sum it up, his home life was no luxury. Living alone had plenty of advantages, but hearing those neighbors chatting through the thin walls gave his heart a pang of loneliness on occasion. He did not focus on relationships with people he knew, the miniscule relations with his fellow classmates were too formal to consider friendships, other than Francis of course.

Francis was surely something that was hard to explain. They were neither friend nor enemies; they simply were there for one another in times of need. They were in different courses, but interacted still. Francis was an inspiring artist with a big ego and faith in his abilities. Arthur even believed he had every right to; he had seen the man's work and even seen him in the process.

It was graceful and so smooth, as if he had practiced every stroke of a brush or mark of a pencil a thousand times previously. The envious feelings got to him when he was down, but he majorly just ignore those and cheered him on. When your dreams were crushed, it did not mean you had to go on to do the same to those around you.

Yes, his life was so plain and boring, thus it made him want to pull his hair strand by strand out and watch them slowly fall to the wooden floor underneath his feet. His inspiration and that burning passion had died out to a simple flicker in his chest ever since a year and a half ago. It was a shame for he had much promise according to his professor, but that all was sucked down the drain.

His photos did not capture any essence anymore and simply put, were trash and were to be ripped and burned. All his work was to be a waste and for what; for him to become a half assed photographer for cheap weddings? He did not want to end there. His desire was to be on a newspaper or with a magazine like any other sucker in this field of work. The openings were so scarce and chances to be accepted were slim, which meant it was impossible for him to ever fill one of those jobs.

And yet, he had already accepted that fate and was content with it. So, today he got up like any other day of the week. It was a Thursday and he was currently preparing himself for the upcoming day. He had thrown on a pair of denim jeans and a long sleeved shirt that was striped with gray and green

. His hair was not yet combed though so it was a mess as he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, brushing his teeth with a blank expression. He spit into the sink and washed out his mouth before cleaning the brush and setting it back in place. He snatched a comb and headed out to the living room where his things laid.

He ran the comb through his locks of blond hair, sorting it out lazily as he began to tie up his shoes tightly. He put the comb onto the side coffee table by the sofa and grabbed his jacket next. It was actually a pea coat in the hazel shade of brown. He slipped his arms through the sleeves and buttoned it up, keeping the first two undone. He heaves out a sigh and grabbed his messenger bag, slinging it over his shoulder and proceeding to head out of the door. He hurried on down the stairs to the main floor, giving a small raise of his hand as an excuse for a wave for the landlady, who always was up this early for no apparent reason when he left.

As he got outside, he took a deep breath and was ecstatic to be greeted by the fresh morning air. The smell was so much better than the old musty stench that reeked throughout the entire apartment complex. He felt a morning breeze brush through his hair and smile crept onto his pale, pink lips. He continues on to walk, heading onto the bus stop like any other day of the week. A small crowd usually would be huddled at the spot that was majorly university students and a few of those without cars heading to work on the opposite side of the town. He was perfectly fine on his casual walk until a tug was on his coat hem.

"Hey Arthur, would you care to capture a photo of me today?" A voice chirped that was far too familiar with the now grumpy blond. Looking down, it was that dreaded Peter brat again. The boy never learned his place, or when he should stop pestering adults who had no time for his childish antics. His grin was covering half his face as he had caught the attention of Arthur. He seemed to feel accomplished from it. "So, are you going to do it?" He continued on, edging him to go along with his whims.

"I do not have time to Peter. Plus, my assignment is not to get a photo of a pest who will not get out of my hair." He answered and continued to walk, only to have the kid rush in front of him with a pout. Of course he was not going to get way from this the easy way. "That is mean! Come on jerk, is it that hard to aim a camera and snap one picture?" He whined, crossing his arms and giving him his best glare he possessed.

"Ugh, fine then. Pose or whatever and I will take one and only one photo." He had to emphasize or he would try to pull some sort of fast one on the guy. He reached into his bag and got out his camera, taking the cap off of it and beginning to fiddle with it so he would get the focus just right. Peter was going to move the ball cap he had on backwards and went to lean against the brick wall of a shop with his arms crossed and some sort of supposedly tough expression.

He looked ridiculous to Arthur, but if he wanted to seem like whatever it was children these days idolized, then so be it. He turned and looked at him, snapping the picture and recapping the camera and placing it back in its place. "I will give you it whenever I get my next assignment all done." He glanced at Peter and turned his hat back around, earning a whine in return.

After leaving him behind, he took a turn at the corner of the street and his eyes went wide with panic. He saw the bus and it was loading up with people. He was going to miss it! Realizing his fate, he began a mad dash the fastest he could go. It was a shame he was horrible in physical things such as this and lost his breath, stopping in the middle of his sprint when he saw the door close.

He bent over, hands on his knees and panting out of breath as the air had been practically knocked out of his lungs. He glared at the ground and cursed under his breath. He was about to head back and try to scrape money for a taxi ride when a sudden tap on the shoulder startled him.

"Sorry mister! I didn't mean to startle you dude!" A rather loud and brash voice said to him. Arthur stood up straight, calming from his shock and getting a good look at this random man. From his looks, he seemed to be nineteen or twenty, maybe younger. His hair was a darker color blond than Arthur's and had an annoying cowlick that stuck up near where it parted.

He wore a pair of plain black glasses with thick rectangular frames. They covered his cerulean blue eyes that seemed to glimmer as he spoke. His skin tone was a bit tanner than the pale one of Arthur, and he had a bit more of a light muscular build under his clothes than him. After examining him, Arthur took a short moment to respond.

"Do not worry about it, but may I ask why you want my attention?" He had never seen this guy around so it seemed weird for him to try and gain his attention right now. The boy grins sheepish and adjusted his glasses, pushing them up more. "Oh, I saw you miss that bus and wanted to see if I could help you." He let out a small chuckle, "It seemed it was important to catch from that sprint you did."

"Well, I do not really mingle with…strangers…so I think I shall be good. It was a pleasure to meet you though-" He did not know what to call him, but this mystery man answered it quickly enough. "My name is Alfred, but my friends call me Al for short! I wanted to know if you wouldn't mind if I got us a cab and took you wherever it is you're heading to."

The offer hung in the air and Arthur knew that was his best bet, but was he that content to be around this guy? He did not give off some dangerous vibe, but people were deceiving. He looks to him tiredly and nods his head once, "Fine, I'll take you up on that. I'm Arthur by the way." He extended his hand and Alfred eagerly gripped it and shook vigorously.

The handshake broke and soon enough Alfred got a taxi and they were off. It turned out the two were attending the same college. Alfred was a part of the literature department; this fact had greatly shocked Arthur. As the conversation progressed, he found he was in it because he wanted to be a writer of children's books.

It took a lot for Arthur not to laugh at the dream he had, but he resisted. He simply thought it was rare and not what was expected of anyone. Then again, the two men had just met and had a lot to learn about one another. The ride was filled with pointless small talk, but every word that left Alfred's lips was so lively and animated as if he was telling a story. It left Arthur amazed how he could mention such simple things in such a tone. He never seemed to be all that interested in anything he said by his own tone of voice, so it was hard to grasp.

Once they arrived, the two parted but not before Alfred forced them to exchange numbers and promised to text or call so he could see him again. The day had such an odd start that when Arthur got to plopping down his seat in his classroom he felt wrongly placed. He was dazed and off in his thoughts as the rest gathered inside and soon enough had the class started.

He would have been noticed and scolded by their professor if it had not been for his somewhat friend Feliciano's nudging. This guy was a real character. He was so cheerful and full of joy that it was no wonder he was one of the star photographers. He could probably be the best, but at times he dropped his sense and went to simply photograph things that made him happy, which ended up being animals like stray cats.

There was nothing wrong with taking photos that brought personal pleasure, but it was only to be done for out of class focuses. Arthur did not have spare cash to be able to develop free photos of his choosing so he usually did only assigned prompts. These days, those never came out right either. He was a wreck with his touch with his love for the process of finding that perfect scene; that was the worst thing to happen a photographer. Once being snapped out of his daze, he looked forward and prepared for the upcoming lecture. Before that, his phone vibrated on his pocket and he glanced at the message which read:

'Hey Arthur! I am just checking if this is the right number and if I could see if we could do something tomorrow?' Reading the said message, he responds saying he was busy when he really was not. His head just told him not to bother yet with this guy. He would not blow him off, but delay his intentions of friendship since he had no need of friends anytime soon. Arthur put his phone back away and turned off, and went on with his turning his attention to the class.

* * *

**[ I know it's not the best start, but I have never done this sort of a fanfic before. I do apologize for any errors. I try to look my best, but I am only human. I do hope you enjoy it though for however long it turns out to be. Whether short or long, I hope you like the start of **_**To capture his smile**_**.** **Thanks for reading! ]**


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